I'll Be Home for Christmas
by Jimelda
Summary: Secret Santa fic for MyLuckyWhistle. Hurley and Ben spend Christmas with their friends. Post-The End. Jate, Suliet, Charlie/Claire reunions to come! Chapter 2 posted!
1. Prologue

**Title: **I'll Be Home For Christmas  
**Rating: **PG  
**Summary: **Hurley and Ben spend Christmas with their friends.  
**Spoilers: **Post - 6.17 and 6.18, _The End__  
_**A/N: **Written for MyLuckyWhistle in the Lost Secret Santa Challenge 2010. Sorry this is so late, I meant to post it yesterday but, after dealing with a Christmas tree incident, no longer had the time. This chapter is more of a prologue anyway, with the actual Christmas part being posted sometime later this week. There is also a poll at the bottom, for anyone who is interested. Enjoy and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays everyone.

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**Prologue:**

Hurley sat, legs crossed, on the beach; watching the waves roll in and out along the shoreline, carrying with them memories of times past, and of people he would never see again. He blinked in surprise, taking a moment to step away from his misery and wonder where it had come from. Despite all that had happened in the past three years, he very seldom thought about it. That could be due to problems on the Island he was still trying to sort out. They occupied so much of his time and energy that he rarely had the chance to be alone with his thoughts.

And today they'd caught him off guard, slithering into his mind with a vengeance (_angry at being ignored for so long_) while he was waiting for his right-hand man to return. Ben had been absent for long stretches at a time these past few weeks and Hurley had to admit that he missed the older man's presence. Working together for almost a year now, they had formed a bond that continued to surprise them both.

Since his work was done for the moment, Hurley continued to sulk, finally allowing his mind to wander into the forbidden territory that he tried to avoid at all costs. Immediately a face popped into his head. _Her _face; one he would never be able to forget (_not that he wanted to_). He still visited her grave at least once a week, dropping by flowers or berries or whatnot. Once he'd even brought a blanket out there for the picnic he'd promised her. Before he could break out the sandwiches, however, Ben dragged him away.

"You'll thank me later," he'd said. He was right.

But now every visit Hurley paid to the graveyard was only made worse by the sight of the newer graves – or the grave markers for those whose bodies had never been found. Too many of his friends had ended up lying beneath the dirt, or at the bottom of the ocean, and that fact was hard for Hurley to wrap his head around. So he tried not to think of it.

Today being Christmas Eve day, however (_which he instinctively knew without having to look at a calendar; not that there were any on the Island in the first place_) he couldn't be blamed for thinking of his loved ones. And not only the one's he'd lost, but those he'd never see again as well. His mother and father, Kate, Sawyer, Claire, Miles, Lapidus. All of them. As long as he was stuck on this Island he would forever remain separated from them.

Not that Hurley minded being the Island's protector. He didn't in the slightest. In fact, he liked to think that life on the Island was much better because of him, even though the only two people living that life were himself and Ben. Everyone else was either dead or had left. And some days Hurley wished he could do the same.

Today was one of those days.

Before he could sink further into the darkness that had seemingly overcome his brain, footsteps behind him warned of another's presence. Turning, an instinctive reaction (_who else could it be?_), he watched Ben appear from the tree line.

"Come on, get up," he instructed, taking in the expression on Hurley's face.

"Why? What's the point?" Hurley wondered aloud, heaving himself to his feet anyway. "Where are you going?" he asked as Ben disappeared into the woods once more.

"Follow me, Hugo," came the other man's voice as it drifted out to the beach. Hurley frowned, wondering what his assistant was up to now, although with Ben sometimes it was better not to ask questions. Trailing in Ben's footsteps, he made his way deeper and deeper into the jungle, his heart as heavy as his steps on the trodden grass below.

* * *

After an hour or two, Hurley finally caught sight of Ben resting on a patch of rocks up ahead. He gratefully accepted the canteen held out to him, drinking deeply before addressing the older man.

"What are we doing out here, dude? It's almost Christmas Eve, can't we take a break?"

Ben smiled knowingly. "Of course we can, Hugo. After all, you're the boss. All I'm trying to do is give you your Christmas present a few hours early." He chuckled at the stunned expression on Hurley's face. "I thought you'd want it now instead of later."

"That's nice of you, but I kinda didn't get you anything. I wasn't sure if we were gonna celebrate Christmas or not," Hurley explained, feeling, if possible, even worse than he had a few hours ago. And more guilty.

"You've already given me the greatest gift you could. I never imagined I would be able to stay here and work with you like this. I owe you everything, Hugo, and I'm just trying to repay you the only way I can think of."

"Which would be..." Hurley prompted, having no idea what kind of Christmas present Ben could possibly have hidden out here. Or why.

"You'll find out soon enough," the other man countered, slipping off the rock and continuing towards his destination.

_That was helpful_, Hurley thought to himself as, having no reason not to, he fell into step behind Ben once more.

* * *

They had stopped again before Hurley's mind fully registered his surroundings; this time looking much more familiar than the never-ending foliage of the jungle. He felt his heart beat faster as he caught sight of the moss-covered building that seemed to rise straight out of the earth, along with the rows of plants in front used to camouflage the its true identity. The last time he'd been here was with Ben and Locke more than three years ago (_he'd made a point to avoid this part of the Island since he became its protector_) and it hadn't changed at all since his last visit.

"Dude, why did you bring me here?" he asked angrily, hating the flood of memories that were caused by the Dharma station.

"I know you don't like the Orchid, Hugo. I don't blame you. And I'm sorry we had to come back here, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run," was all Ben said before heading towards a set of bright red flowers. "Anthuriums," he said in response to Hurley's questioning look. "It means _tail flower_ in Greek."

Before his superior could ask, he flicked a switch and pushed up the shelf holding the flowers, revealing a small passageway with an ancient-looking elevator at the end. Hurley hesitated briefly before following Ben into the cramped enclosure.

"All set?" he checked, pulling hard on another lever. Hurley was ashamed to feel himself jump in surprise as a metal door slid down next to him, nearly brushing against his arm. He shuddered slightly as the cage creaked and groaned while making its way deep into the earth.

Staring through the small octagonal hole, Hurley's first glimpse into what must have been the real Orchid station was of dimly lit walls covered in dirt that lead to another metal door down the hall. Walking forward into a circular room, his eyebrows narrowed at a capsule-like hole that was filled to the brim with various metal objects.

Ben didn't allow him any time to stop and look around however, as he pushed his way through the piles of metal and into a hollowed out crevice on the other side of the vault. Upon closer inspection, Hurley surmised that it was some sort of cave.

Forcing his uncertainties aside and crawling in after his right-hand man, who was beginning to act a lot more like the leader of the Others he had once been (_or at least as shifty as he'd been then_), Hurley slowed his pace once he caught sight of the rickety ladder along the edge of a cliff.

"Dude, I'm sure you meant well, but this is so not safe..." he fretted.

"You'll find it all worthwhile once you see what's at the bottom," came Ben's reassuring words from halfway down the ladder. "And trust me, this ladder is much sturdier than the one that used to be here. I should know, since I spent the last two weeks working on it."

Wanting to show some faith in his assistant, Hurley gradually made his way down the set of wooden rungs, grateful that they seemed to hold his weight. He eyed the fire in the corner of the room doubtfully before catching sight of the giant wheel to his left and realizing just what Ben was planning to do.

"We're going to move the Island?" he asked, anger seeping into his voice. "Why would you want to do that now, after all we've been through?"

"We're not moving the Island, Hugo," Ben said patiently. "You're going to leave the Island. Since you are its new protector, the usual rules don't apply to you. All you have to do is think of the place you want to go, turn the wheel, and you'll be there."

Hurley couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was a way for him to leave and Ben had known about it for all this time? "Why are you just telling me this now?" he shouted, hating himself as he watched Ben wince.

"Because this place wasn't fit for anyone to come to, not after the last time I used it. You have no idea how long it's taken me to clear away all the ice that used to cover every inch of rock in here. I finished last week and was going to wait until Christmas morning to show it to you, but I thought you'd rather be with your friends tonight than stuck on this Island. So what are you waiting for? Go ahead and – " his explanation was interrupted as Hurley wrapped him in a bear hug, cutting off his air supply.

"You're the best, man!" he exclaimed happily. "Merry Christmas." Stepping up to the wheel, he was about to start turning it until he noticed Ben climbing back up the ladder. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the beach, Hugo. I'm not coming with you. I know no one would be happy to see me," he said, a defeated tone to his voice. His eyes widened as his partner plucked him off the ladder and placed him on his feet.

"If I'm leaving the Island, you're going too. And if anyone has a problem with that, they'll have to answer to me," he stated firmly, not about to leave his friend behind. "Will you help me with this?" He gestured towards the wheel, placing his hands against the smooth wood and beginning to turn. He felt when Ben forced his own weight against it as well, then he turned his thoughts towards the one person he longed to see during the Christmas season.

As he watched, a golden light grew from the center for the wheel, bright enough to force his eyes shut and send him spiraling into darkness so intense that it wasn't long before his senses were entirely erased and he felt nothing at all.

* * *

**Poll:** Who would you like Hurley to visit first? I am open to suggestions for any Lost character, alive or dead.


	2. Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away

I apologize for how long it's taken me to finish up this chapter. There is no excuse. :P I hope you'll still enjoy it and feel in the Christmas spirit (even though it's nearly two months later!)

And no, the chapter title is not an intentional pun.

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**Chapter 1: Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away**

The last thing he remembered was Ben grabbing his arm and holding on tightly as the world disappeared around them both, before he suddenly let go, taking the time to quickly whisper in Hurley's ear. _I have to find someone too. I'll see you again soon, Hugo. T_hen he was gone, leaving Hurley alone with nothing but the dark recesses of his mind.

That didn't last for long. Soon enough he became aware of the melody of sounds encompassing his senses. Prying his eyes open (_squinting against the flood of light_), he stared, uncomprehending, at his surroundings; waiting for a sense of familiarity to sink in. There was none. This place with its brick walls – radiating heat from the warmth of the sun – was certainly not one he had visited before.

He idly watched car after car race by on the street, separated from what he now knew to be a parking lot by only a small patch of grass. It wasn't until the smell of smoke fully registered within his brain that he realized he was not alone. Watching his unexpected companion out of the corner of his eye, Hurley thought there was something very familiar about that silhouette...

"Dude!" he shouted, running up the Asian man and throwing his arms around him. He was met with a chorus of muttered cursing and failed attempts to push him away. "I can't believe it's you!"

"Yeah, yeah, Tubby. I'm happy to see you too, but will you get off me?" came the muffled reply.

Hurley replied obligingly, holding his friend at arm's length and gazing into his face intently. "Miles, buddy, how are you?"

"Aside from almost being squished to death, I'm good. What are you doing here?" His monotone voice conveyed very little curiosity.

"Better question, dude, what are _you _doing here?" Hurley responded, avoiding the question. He himself wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in this place. Miles definitely wasn't the person he'd been wanting to visit. Or at least, Hurley hadn't _thought_ he was...

Miles stared at him with an almost incredulous expression. "I work here." The _duh_ evident at the end of his words. For the first time, Hurley looked at the building itself, taking in the _Miles Straume: Private Detective _sign above the door.

"Dude... What happened to you?" he asked, eying Miles – with the cigarette hanging from his mouth – doubtfully. "Why are you working here?"

Miles didn't want to go into detail, but he knew Hurley would never let this go if he didn't. He dropped his cigarette on the pavement and stubbed the still-burning embers out with his toe, thinking of where to begin.

"After we got back, I sold those diamonds for eight million dollars. And sure, at first that was great. I bought myself a new house and a car. Took a few road trips, you know, stuff like that. But then I had no idea what to do with the rest of it. Travel was out – still is. There's no way I'm getting on a boat or plane anytime soon. As in ever. And I had no one else to spend my money on. No family, no girlfriend. All of the people I'd come to know as friends – or at least the closest thing to friends I'll ever have – were either dead, hiding, or wouldn't have anything to do with me. And then there was you, who I wasn't even sure _was _alive."

He took a breath, pretending not to notice the look of pity Hurley was throwing his way; the reason he hadn't wanted to explain any of this in the first place.

"So what, man? You like...gave it all away?" Hurley was surprised. After all Miles' talk of money and bribes (_which was one of the only things he'd ever seemed to care about since Hurley had known him_) he couldn't imagine Miles simply throwing all that away. His suspicions were proven correct when Miles snorted.

"Hey, Jumbo, do I look like a generous man to you? 'Cause let me put it this way, I sure ain't no saint. Back then, the only way anyone was gonna get that money was to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers. But soon that scenario was becoming all too much of a reality.

It first happened three months after I got back. I was coming home from my weekly massage. Hey," he defended, catching Hurley's expression, "what else was I gonna do with my money? Anyway, when I was driving I had one of those feelings. You know, that a person had died nearby. Which is bad enough when I'm behind the wheel, but then I started sensing dead people everywhere. I would collapse in the mall or on the street. It got so bad that I couldn't even leave the house anymore. And that's not the way this is supposed to work. I usually only get a sense of recent deaths. Like, within the last century. But this, this was like all the ghosts of anyone who had died – ever – were following me wherever I went. I guess I finally figured they were some sort of punishment for stealing the diamonds from those Jabronies. So after I realized why every damn spirit in the country was haunting me, _then_ I gave away the money. Let someone else deal with the memories of the dead."

A silence fell upon the two, only the hum and whine of cars to be heard around them. Hurley was the first to break it.

"So, uh, why did you become a detective then?" The question was more of a way to continue the conversation than anything else, as he was still processing the rest of what Miles had said.

Miles shrugged, nonchalant. "I needed a job and this pays the bills. Plus it's a great way for me to catch up with the dead guys I haven't seen in a while," he finished sarcastically. What he refused to say aloud was the true reason he became a P.I.; he had a lot to make up for. And in his mind this was the only way.

"But enough about me. Let's talk about you. Why are you here, Tubby?" Miles changed the subject; he was genuinely curious.

"I haven't seen a ghost even since you guys left, except for the people still stuck on the Island – " those of which Hurley didn't like to dwell on because it always made him sad to think of all the trapped souls, especially Michael. At least he and Ben had been working on a plan for his friend... " – and I guess I wanted to know if you were still seeing them." Truthfully he'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack or even Sun or Jin. No matter how much he wanted to think they'd moved on, what he wouldn't give for just one more day to spend with all of them.

"But you kinda already answered my question for me, dude."

Miles was already shaking his head before Hurley finished speaking. "What I do isn't the same. Don't rely on my experiences to explain your own problems. I still don't even know how this works, so I doubt I can be much help.

"There's gotta be something else, Hugo. No way did you come all the way out here now, almost a year later, to check up on me and to talk about ghosts. Why are you really here?"

And so Hurley told him the entire story. Of Ben fixing the donkey wheel and saying it would take him to whomever he wanted to see the most. At this, Miles had to interrupt.

"And so you immediately thought of me? Poor, lonesome Miles. Abandoned by everyone and stuck with nothing but ghosts for company?" His mouth curled up in a sneer so alike to one Sawyer would have made that Hurley quickly backtracked.

"Actually, I was thinking about Kate. I thought she might like a little company at Christmas-time, seeing as the man she loved is dead and the mother of the boy she'd raised as a son came back with her."

Miles shifted guiltily. He hated being reminded of how petty his own problems were.

"I don't know why I'm here, dude. But it's gotta be for a reason. Maybe I'm the one who's supposed to help you reconnect with our friends." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Hurley felt the truth of what he was saying. Was this what Ben had been planning all along? Was this really nothing more than a mission to bring everyone back together? If so, that begged the question: why? To return them to the Island? No. Despite Ben's past, Hurley knew that the man had changed. No longer was he the selfish leader of the others. Instead he had become a friend, a confidant, over the past year. Especially after what he had just done. And Hurley refused to believe that this was all some sort of diabolical plot.

"So I guess it's time to visit the others," Hurley muttered to himself. Miles whipped his head around, his eyes boring into Hurley's.

"Now hold on a minute, Jumbo. If you think I am trekking around the country with you to find these people, think again." Any other protests died in his throat as he caught sight of the scorching expression on Hurley's face.

"Dude, it's Christmas time. If know you don't want to come, but do you really want to be alone tomorrow?"

"Fine," Miles surrendered, knowing better than to argue. "But don't say I didn't warn you when they throw me out on my ass." Before he could give in to any more idiotic requests, he felt the big guy's arms wrap around him once more. "Seriously, Hugo, twice in one day is more than I can take. I'm not a real emotional kinda guy."

Hurley chuckled patronizingly. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, dude. Now how are we gonna get to Kate?"

Miles sighed. He knew it would come down to this. "You're lucky we're still in L.A., Tubby. Or you'd be outta luck." He began walking in the direction of the parking lot. "We can take my car."

* * *

Kate was lying on the couch, a notepad and a box of tissues beside her. It was one of those days; they came around all too often now. This morning had started out badly and her mood had simply gone downhill from there. Of course, waking up to an empty bed after dreaming of Jack never left her feeling ready to take on the world. Not that much did, especially since she had moved out of her old house and was now living in an apartment three blocks away from the boy she still thought of as her son.

Even a year later she couldn't seem to force away that maternal instinct. And living with another mother – one who hated her enough already – did nothing to help matters. Sure, they'd tried to put aside their differences (_more specifically, Claire's feelings of hatred and Kate's feelings of regret_) and focus only on Aaron, but that was easier said than done. And the day Claire threw a fit because Aaron asked Kate to read to him was the moment Kate decided it would be in everyone's best interests for her to move out.

Leaving the place where she and Jack had shared so many memories was harder than she could have ever imagined – although not nearly as hard as staying – and it was becoming a regular occurrence for Kate to awaken with tear tracks on her cheeks and a damp pillow beneath her. Somewhere around that time she discovered the wonders of keeping a journal. More often than not she would write to herself, laying all the horrors in her mind out on the page in front of her. But there were the occasional passages dedicated to Jack as well.

Not that she even remotely believed that he could see them (_or if she did, she wouldn't admit it herself. She found it easier to live in a world where he didn't exist at all rather than a world where she could still feel his presence and was destined to be forever separated from him_) but she wrote them all the same.

Today was the first day she had written an entire entry to him. Maybe it was the Christmas season that was nearly upon her – _was_ upon her, with today being the day of Christmas Eve – and was making her sense his absence even more so than usual. Maybe it was nothing more than hormones and the desire to feel the intimacy of another human being (_which she hadn't experienced in far too long_). Whatever the reason, she had found herself sitting on the couch this morning writing fervently and unable to stop until she had completely finished what she wanted to say.

_Dearest Jack,_

_I never thought I'd know happiness. My life an endless cycle of recurring demons, I didn't have the strength to break free. Until I met you. You taught me courage I would never have found elsewhere. You were my ray of sunlight after a storm passed over; my everything._

_Those weeks (_months, really_) we spent together were the best of my life. With you I felt true happiness. __Though our encounter was brief in the grand scheme of things (_life was never fair in handing us such a short stretch of time_) it left me irrevocably changed nonetheless. For the better. I am who I am because of you and I never thanked you for it._

_A darkness has once again fallen upon my life, but I struggle through it because I know somewhere there is a light. I'll find it when I see you again._

She had paused, pen hanging above the page as she read the words she'd scribbled down so hastily they were nearly illegible. As a rule she never re-read her journal entries; they only served as a reminder of memories and thoughts she would rather forget. The hopeless tone of her previous words, however, lead her to continue jotting down whatever crossed her mind.

_Christmas is tomorrow and I don't know what I am going to do or who I am going to spend it with. I've been denying it ever since December rolled around, so I have no presents for anyone this year and at this point I doubt Claire will be inviting me over. Maybe I should give her a call. It's that or risk spending the holiday season alone. Not that it would be such a bad thing, I suppose, since I can't stand to be around company these days._

_Everything anyone says or does reminds me of you, even the smallest things. I was thinking about starting a small garden in the windowsill – God knows this place could use a bit of brightening up – but I could barely make it inside the store without thinking of guava seeds and, undoubtedly, when you gave them to me._

_I know I need to get over this. I've been living without you for almost a year now and I still can't forget you. Not that I'd ever want to. But what I wouldn't give to have you holding me again..._

By this point fresh tears were staining the page and she figured it was time to wrap things up. If only to spare herself from any more heartache; always brought on by thoughts of Jack.

_I probably should head out to the mall and pick up something for Aaron – in case Claire will allow me to see him for Christmas after all. I long, with all my heart, for you to be here so I can wish you Merry Christmas. That's all I'm asking for this holiday._

_And so, Jack, wherever you are, _if _you are anywhere at all, I hope you are doing well._

_Missing you,_

_Kate_

_

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_

Well? Too sappy for you? Not Christmas-y enough? (The Christmas spirit will become more prominent in later chapters.) Drop a review and let me know. ;)

**Up next:** Kate is in for a surprise visit from two old friends. Featuring the appearance of other Losties!


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